


Piano

by papercloudx



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 19:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7281688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papercloudx/pseuds/papercloudx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"As you followed the sound to the lounge, you were amazed to find Rafe sitting in front of the grand piano, occasionally stopping his playing to scribble down something in a battered notebook that you didn’t recognize. In fact, you hadn’t actually seen Rafe play the piano before—you had assumed that it was for decoration and show more than anything else." </p>
<p>His girlfriend watches Rafe play the piano on the anniversary of his mother’s death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piano

**Author's Note:**

> Beneath all his displays of greatness and self-confidence, I believe Rafe is a vulnerable person who won’t let himself reveal his real emotions unless he trusts someone completely. I wanted to explore that side of Rafe a bit more.

You closed the door behind you after a long and exhausting day at work. Your boss had been extremely demanding of you today, and all you wanted to do was to kick off your shoes and lie down on the sofa in Rafe’s arms and watch some ridiculous and stupid programme on the telly that would distract you from today.

You called for Rafe but received no reply. This wasn’t surprising, considering how big his—your—house was, and you assumed Rafe was still working in his office or reading a book somewhere. You decided to go for a shower first and calm down a bit before you started your search for your boyfriend.

On the way to the bathroom, you were greeted by quiet piano notes. The melody was sad, almost tragic; you didn’t recognize the piece. As you followed the sound to the lounge, you were amazed to find Rafe sitting in front of the grand piano, occasionally stopping his playing to scribble down something in a battered notebook that you didn’t recognize. In fact, you hadn’t actually seen Rafe play the piano before—you had assumed that it was for decoration and show more than anything else. You leaned against the doorframe and watched Rafe, who was obviously so deep in thought and concentration that he didn’t notice you.

The melody Rafe seemed to be writing down soon made you forget your original intentions. As you closed your eyes, it painted an image of a forest only illuminated through the pale moonlight, a lone figure looking up at the sky—it was a powerful piece of music, that much you could tell, even as someone who didn’t know much about music theory and writing.

Rafe kept replaying one part over and over again, changing the rhythm and the notes slightly every time. Eventually, he seemed to give up; he sighed deeply, picked up the notebook and stared at it for a while before tossing it on the ground. “Useless,” he muttered. “Absolutely useless.”

You approached him slowly from behind. “I don’t think so. That was beautiful, Rafe.”

Upon hearing your voice, Rafe jumped in his seat. “Jesus, you frightened me. How long have you been standing there?” He looked at you in a way that you couldn’t quite place—it wasn’t anger or frustration, but he wasn’t exactly happy to see you, either.

“Five minutes maybe. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you.” With a smile, you added, “I didn’t know you play the piano.” 

After a short pause, Rafe made some space on the piano stool for you and with a gesture asked you to sit down. “Well, I suppose you were bound to find out eventually.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

Instead of answering, he picked up the notebook again and stared at it. You could tell that he was somewhere far away in this moment, and a shadow seemed to pass over his face. “Did you really like the song?”

“I did. It was just… very sad.”

Rafe looked up at you and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “My father always hated the songs I wrote.”

You blinked twice as the information took a moment to process in your brain. “Wait… you wrote this yourself?”

Rafe seemed very interested in the piano keys all of a sudden, and you could see a light blush on his cheeks. Was he embarrassed? 

“Composing has always helped me calm down. It’s easier to arrange my feelings in music than to express them in words, I suppose.” He laughed, but it was a sound without joy, and he still refused to look at you again. You slowly reached out your hand to stroke his back, as you knew that this usually helped him when he was feeling angry or frustrated, but this time, Rafe tensed under your touch and seemed to prepare himself for something—almost as if he expected you to hit him. The smile fell from his face, and for the first time since you got to know him, you saw something that could only be described as _sadness_ on Raphael Adler’s face. You had seen many of his emotions before—anger and frustration, mostly, but also happiness and lust—but this was, you realized suddenly, the first time you had ever seen Rafe sad. You felt helpless—what would be the right reaction to this? What would he be okay with? 

Before you could react, he spoke up again. “You know, I haven’t shared this with anyone since… since my father’s death. I didn’t intend to let anyone see this side of me again.” He exhaled deeply. “But now that you know…” He pouted his lips, trying to find the right words. And finally, after what seemed like forever, he looked into your eyes. “I’m glad. I didn’t realize how much I wanted to share this with you.”

“Oh Rafe…” You drew him close to you and hugged him, drawing small circles on his back with your thumb. “I’m glad too,” you mumbled into his neck, “and I would love to hear more. If you are willing to share. I don’t want to put pressure on you.” You meant both his music and his thoughts and stories about his past, and you hoped he would understand without you stating this explicitly. It was hard to judge how much Rafe would be willing to open up to you, and you didn’t want to make him feel as if he owed you anything. 

Rafe relaxed considerably under your touch, and he only drew back to give you a soft kiss on the lips. His eyes still spoke of a sadness that you couldn’t place. “Is there… is there anything I can do for you, my love?”

Your boyfriend looked at you almost as if he was quietly asking for permission, as if he wanted to say _I don’t know if you really want to hear this_ but didn’t dare to speak the words out loud. You gave him a small nod in encouragement; you wanted him to know that he could tell you everything.

“I had to think of my mother today. It’s the anniversary of her death.” Rafe had lost his mother when he was ten. You didn’t know how it happened; only that he had been very close to her, and that he somehow blamed his father for her death. He had been angry when he told you, and you had been too afraid to press the issue further.

“She would have loved you,” he added quietly.

You saw tears forming in Rafe’s eyes, and you pulled him into a hug again. “I’m so, so sorry, babe.” And suddenly, Rafe was a sobbing and crying mess in your arms. It was as if a dam had been broken; and the sounds that he made broke your heart. As you rocked back and forth with your boyfriend in your arms, you wondered if you were the first person to be there for Rafe in his sadness ever since his mother died, and you couldn’t help but feel anger flaring up inside you at his father who had left him so alone. Rafe clung to you as if his life depended on it.

It took him almost ten minutes to gain control over himself again; another first in your experience with Rafe. When the tears stopped, he stood up and grabbed a tissue from the coffee table. He dried his eyes and blew his nose before turning to you again: “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You shouldn’t have had to see that. I promise it won’t happen again.” If it wasn’t for his red and puffy eyes and your wet shirt, nothing would have hinted at the breakdown Rafe had just mere seconds ago.

You quickly got up and closed the distance between you. You looped your arms around his waist and pressed feather light kisses to his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, his nose. “Rafe, I love you. I’m here for you. Please, please tell me about things like this. We’re a team, right? I want to be there for you.”

He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. “Maybe I’ll… maybe I’ll tell you more about my mother one day. But not… not today. I can’t.”

He took your hand and led you back to the piano. “What I can do, however, is play for you, if you want to.”

You smiled and sat down next to him again. “I would absolutely love that.”


End file.
